


What Happens In The Dark...

by T_Philips



Series: A Collection of Things [4]
Category: Grand Theft Auto V
Genre: Gen, Pepper Spray, trevor is lonely and sad
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-19
Updated: 2016-10-19
Packaged: 2018-08-23 08:31:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,307
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8320972
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/T_Philips/pseuds/T_Philips
Summary: A tale of that temporarily blinded Trevor.





	

Trevor is a simple man. He likes simple things: trucks, guns, America, porn, lukewarm beer, organic tits, murder without consequence, someone to hold him at night, walks on the beach, drinking the blood of his enemies out of a small tea cup, boots, the color pink, but most importantly, erections. 'Every erection is a blessing' someone said once upon a time, and in their made up world Trevor would be a saint. Not a day goes by that he isn't a proud owner of a chub in his undies. If his taint itches in public, he'll itch it. Sure, he's had his share of bar fights and lonely nights wandering the streets of Los Santos looking for a lay and a hit of any possible drug he can get his grubby, bleeding knuckled hands on. 

He insults, defiles, threatens, and pisses on anyone who dare step in his way during his journey through his prime. No one is ever brave enough to do anything to stop him, and if they are, they usually end up with a broken nose and/or a detached limb or two. Trevor believes that the world just needs a big ol' can of whoop ass opened up on it and he is the messenger. Who else fits the mold of middle aged, mentally deranged, balding, with a need to strangle anyone who does anything wrong? Who else offers a rim job to the nearly overdosed homeless man who probably hasn't showered in months in trade for a plastic figurine of Impotent Rage and a smearing on his gums of crack cocaine from a dirty, bony finger? Trevor thinks no less of himself than the goddamn pharaohs from ancient Egypt as he slaughters his way through towns. No less now, stumbling down a dark alley after being paper sprayed from a rich class woman who was in the wrong side of town, furiously rubbing at his eyes as them swell and feel like they are as hot as lava. Okay, maybe not a pharaoh, but more of a fool. A lonely, sad fool. 

"Argh! Fuck!" He growls through his teeth, jaw clenched from the overwhelming feeling of daggers being stabbed into his eyes that were covered in jalapeño seeds. He stumbles and swings from one side of the dim lit alley while trying to rub the pain away from his eyes, only succeeding in spreading the pepper spray further into his sockets. "God- FUCKING- fuck!" He spits, voice gravelly from the yelling he did to get the woman to let off the trigger of the bottle of fiery spray. 

Trevor only sees red under his eyelids as he stomps his way blindly down the alley, tripping momentarily over a abandoned bottle and a empty box of Chinese food. He had only been pepper sprayed once before, he did it to his arm many years ago when he got curious about how it felt. The patch of forearm he sprayed stayed red and irritated for weeks, and he was unable to get any good lay because all the victims of the night thought it was a serious disease that lead to a red and burned patch of forearm. Michael had been with him the night he sprayed himself, laughing after watching him scramble to wash it off in the motel sink but later offered help that was unwanted. Trevor growls to himself, angry with himself that his partner in crime was the only person he could think of who could help him get somewhere he could rid of the burning sensation under his eyelids. 

The meth addict shoves a pepper spray covered hand into the cloth pocket of his jeans, grabbing his phone and ripping it from its holder. Peaking through his eyelid on his right eye, he scrolls blindly with blurry vision through his contacts, selecting the ninth one down. The ringing tone that follows vibrates his eardrum as he waits for the receiver to pick up as patiently as a man with molten hot lava eyelids can be. "Come on." He grumbles.

"Hey T-" Michael says as the phone call connects, but is interrupted.

"Michael- you fuckin' piece of shit- fuckin' come get me. This bit- woman decided it was a grand idea to pepper spray good ol' Trev, and now I can't fuckin' see so get your fat ass up and over here and -"

The other man cracks with laughter, and the tussling of car keys can be heard behind him. "Alright- calm down. Where are ya?" 

"By the club in some alley I don't fuckin' know have Lester track my phone, you inconsiderate shit. Didn't I fuckin' tell you-"

"You're blind. Yes, I know, I'll be there in a couple of minutes don't go anywhere." 

The call ends before Trevor could open his mouth, leaving him alone and blind in the alley way, again. His ears perk at the sound of the wind pushing something past him and the hairs stand at attention on the back of his neck as the sudden realization that he can't see and is handicapped washes over him. His breathing picks up a bit, only causing his mind to race faster than before. 

Trevor's whole body seems to flinch as he hears what he thinks to be a footstep behind him. There he stands blind and defenseless like a fish in a barrel. Another sound further away catches his attention and he straightens up, making himself less of a obvious target to a teen looking for easy prey to mug. He mentally counts the minutes to steady himself before he manages to fuck himself over with his continuous thoughts of the worst case scenario. The burning in his eyes seems to vanish as he recognizes a far away voice calling out for him. He rips his eyes open but quickly shuts them, still unable to see. 

"Trev?" Michael calls out, voice echoing through the channels of alleys and roadways behind the strip club. 

Trevor feels something rolling down his cheek and flicks it away, feeling moisture settle into his fingertips. He was crying. He opens his mouth but a single strangled cry releases itself from his throat, and he swallows a lump that forms there. He opens his eyes again but he still can't see, and he feels his body crumble slowly, confident exterior shattering. "M- M-" He  
tries. 

"T?" 

Trevor blinks his eyes, looking down at his shadow through watery vision that was being made by the light on Michaels phone. He gulps down his fear and his throat goes dry. "M-" 

"Jesus T, did someone get here before me? Did someone hurt you?" 

A pathetic whimper forces its way through Trevor's lips and he shakes his head, casting water droplets of tears to the ground. "I'm-" 

"Hey, its all good. Here, I brought you some water to wash out your eyes." Michael says.

The water bottles plastic rubs his palm and Trevor grabs onto it, unscrewing the cap with his teeth before leaning his head back and squeezing the cold water into his eyes. His vision doesn't return after the bottle is empty and a hand wraps around the back of his arm. 

"Come on, bud. Let's get you cleaned up." Michael suggests, pulling gently on the man's arm to get him to move from his spot he was currently frozen in.

"Mike-" Trevor says, clearing his throat. "Michael." 

"Yeah?" 

"Do you think I'll go blind permanently?" 

"Wha- no. No. I don't think so at least. A little pepper spray ain't gonna hurt your eyes. You don't even wear protection in the lab!" 

Trevor chuckles in response, a final tear running its course down his cheek and onto the pavement below. "I guess your right..." 

"Ain't I always?" Michael asks.

"If I could see, I'd smack that smirk right off your chubby face."

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you guys for reading and leaving kudos. Please don't be afraid to give some feed back or suggestions to what you'd like to see my write about next!
> 
> Thank you!


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